Today, June 5th, film director Yann Arthus-Bertrand (the man behind the “Earth From Above” series) is releasing his latest work, HOME, in an unprecedented way – simultaneously, to over 50 countries worldwide, via movie theaters, television, DVD, and online. And it’s free (mostly…tickets in theaters are allegedly cheaper).

He’s chosen June 5 for its significance as World Environment Day, fitting for a film covering global climate change and the effects of 200,000 years of human presence on the planet.

Here’s how the synopsis reads on the film’s official website:

“In 200,000 years on Earth, humanity has upset the balance of the planet, established by nearly four billion years of evolution. The price to pay is high, but it’s too late to be a pessimist: humanity has barely ten years to reverse the trend, become aware of the full extent of its spoliation of the Earth’s riches and change its patterns of consumption.

“By bringing us unique footage from over fifty countries, all seen from the air, by sharing with us his wonder and his concern, with this film Yann Arthus-Bertrand lays a foundation stone for the edifice that, together, we must rebuild.”

I haven’t watched it yet. But I’m going to, from home. And if you see it, too, let us know what you think.

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This weekend Portland will be graced with a visit from the Ginger Ninjas a band founded by Kipchoge Spencer, who is also one of the co-founder’s of the incredibly cool bike-bits company, Xtracycle.

The Ginger Ninjas are on the road with their “Pleasant Pedal Revolution,” riding to their tour locations, hauling their equipment on Xtracycle bikes (hard-tail frames converted into burly long-tail cargo-carrying bikes), and powering their mics and amps by the pedalling force of volunteers from the audience. Their stop in Portland is a last-minute switch, so they’re looking for places to play over the weekend.

As Jonathan Maus writes on the Bike Portland blog, “Last year they loaded up for a 5,000 mile journey from Northern California to Mexico City — nearly 100% human powered and with all their music gear in tow.” Cool.

You can read the rest of the article here.

And if you have a spot where these guys can play, let us know! We’ll pass it on.

It’s not often that I envy other cities for their bike-related policies (Portland being such a poster child, in that department), but this is pretty impressive: a formalized bike-sharing program in Barcelona that’s much like Zip Car here in the states, only better, because it cuts out the car part.

Only begs one question: Why haven’t we done this yet in the States? Or have we?
Found via Out There Biking.

This just in: yup, still snowing. Photos are rolling in from around the wild West. Will it ever stop?

Photos (L-R):

1. Jackson Hole ski patroller Larry Detrick skiing in the Crags. Photo: Doug Workman

2. Casa Blanca, Telluride, Colorado. Photo: Nathan Frerichs

3. Digging the tunnel to home, Government Camp, Oregon. Photo: Tyson Wipper

4. Mark M. taking a sick day, Ski Bowl, Oregon. Photo: Ethan Smith

5. Even Mt. Hood Meadows is good this year. Photo: Tim Ehlbeck

6. Buildings are getting buried. Might as well go outside. Photo: Tim Ehlbeck

Our friends at Felt Soul Media rolled through town recently and left us a copy of the trailer for their next film, “Red Gold.” Anyone who’s even remotely concerned about wild salmon, gold mines, and the tensions in between, should watch this trailer and then wait (expectantly) for the full-length film, due out this spring.

You won’t be disappointed, and you’ll likely be moved to act. Ben Knight and Travis Rummel started Felt Soul as a way to blend their greatest passions: fly fishing, photography, and filmmaking. The two are insanely talented. Over the years their films have evolved from entertaining fish porn to some of the most inspiring short films I’ve seen (see “The Hatch“). Read More »

Last weekend I drove through Oregon’s wine country to go to Otis’s wedding outside of McMinnville (congratulations Otis!). For the bulk of the hour-long drive on 99W, which is part suburb, part bucolic country road, I tailed or was tailed by this guy, whose lawnmower-like speed only barely surpassed my nearly dead Subaru’s. With a nod to the Sartorialist, I had to snap his picture. Form + Function + Pursuit of Passion unite. I think he was on his way to the Chehalem Skate Park in Newberg, which is a work of art in and of itself.

You’ve heard of Slow Food, so why not Slow Move?

When Slow Food founder Carlo Petrini spoke in Portland recently, he said bluntly, “Mangiamo merde,” (We eat sh*t). I’m thoroughly convinced that we as a culture live with a lot of merde, too.

So why not be conscientious nesters in the same way that Slow Foodies are thoughtful gastronomists? The principles are the same (to simplify, to make informed decisions that support local and regional economies) and the practice (to be mindful, to enjoy the process) is equally fulfilling.

I recently moved from a two-story house into a 400-square foot studio. It was an exercise in downsizing wisely, and in peddling stuff: old stuff, new stuff, cheap stuff, valuable stuff…ultimately, just way too much stuff. It was also a hassle, and tempted was I ” many times ” to tackle the move as quickly and painlessly as possible.

But what a missed opportunity that would have been — not to mention wasteful. Instead, I employed Slow Move tactics. On the giving end, I identified local organizations that would continue the lives of my unneeded items (see S.C.R.A.P., the School and Community Reuse Action Project, the Raphael House, and the William Temple House). On the receiving end, I befriended local business owners whose expertise could shape my new place wisely (ReBuilding Center, Whole 9 Yards, and Pistils Nursery).

In the end, it was a journey through Portland’s local economy, the result of which has infused my new place with an air of mindful, minimalist, collective creativity. It is a good reminder to continue to strive to chuck the Big Box, regardless of whether it’s full of fry guys and cheeseburgers, home improvement items, or bed linens galore. As Petrini might remind us, these big boxes are really just full of merde.

And on the subject of moving, check out this truly Slow Move. Inspiration for us all.

Images courtesy Clarence Eckerson

The acoustics in the hallways of the courthouse downtown are nearly perfect. I know this because I recently stood in line there for two hours, waiting, with dozens like me, to pay a traffic fine.

There we were, comrades for a short while; a little annoyed at the length of the line, tired of standing, and sometimes amused, like when the guy up front walked off belting the lyrics to the Police song “Roxanne.â€? When the music died, there we were still, humbled, reflecting on how we got to standing there in the first place.

Personally, I was on the third strike of a painful round with the karma ghost.

Strike One: nabbed by the automatic red-light-running camera at the intersection of Broadway and MLK. Yup, that’s my face in that picture, and yup, that’s my car”240 bucks. Sha-zam.

Strike Two: I swear I didn’t know I was skiing out of bounds! But I was, and yes, that’s my ski pass, and yeah, I guess you can have it back.

And now, Strike Three: Did you know that failure to stop completely at a stop sign before making a right turn while commuting to work ON YOUR BICYCLE also costs $240?

And this is why I’m downtown, listening to “Roxanne.â€? While in line, I’m reminded of Christmas Eve two years ago, when I got pulled over for speeding on Teton Pass. I was just leaving my house in Idaho. The tags on my Colorado plates were expired, the address on my Oregon driver’s license was for an old house in Portland, and on this snowy morning I was on my way to work”in Wyoming. I was, quite literally, all over the map.

Read More »

Took the back roads home last weekend and stumbled across this sign. Slammed on the brakes and fell in love. Culver… who knew? What other artistic brilliance is tucked away in the small towns of this state?

The place is one hair shy of the 45th parallel, and they’ve got poets there, too. On the town’s website it reads:

“Nestled in a fertile valley with Haystack Reservoir and the Crooked River National Grasslands to the east, Lake Billy Chinook and the Cove Palisades State Park to the west, Juniper Butte to the south and Round Butte to the north, Culver is home to those who wish to make it theirs.â€?

Oh Culver, how I wish.

The alpine community has suffered a great loss with the deaths of climbers Charlie Fowler and Christine Boskoff. The two were climbing in November in China’s Sichuan province when they were caught and buried in an avalanche.

I did not know either climber personally, though I knew the living legend of Charlie Fowler from my days in Telluride and the San Juans (Fowler had called those mountains – and the town of Norwood – home since the eighties).

As a lifetime adventurer, filmmaker, photographer and writer, Fowler managed to build an impressive international climbing résumé while still directly engaged with his own community, as a founding board member of the Telluride Mountain Club and the Horizon Program (a nonprofit organization dedicated to teaching climbing to the region’s youth), and as a member of the advisory board for Telluride’s MountainFilm Festival.

Given the expansiveness of Fowler’s reach, the legacy he leaves will be different things for different people. For me, I turn to his photographs, which I’ve found myself viewing again and again since I first learned of his accident last week.

I am especially drawn to the Polaroid transfers that sit buried in his website. The images bring a grit, texture, and timelessness to the places he’d traveled in recent years. Monks, yaks, prayer flags, peaks, and temples in the Himalaya sit easily beside a horse race in Norwood, the old Chevys of Cuba, and fishermen in Vietnam, as though they were all captured with the same brush at the same time, and with a similar sense of quiet urgency, throughout.

Polaroid transfers, processed on site, are by their very nature a nod to the immediate, to the here, the now, the moment. Fowler seemed to live for this, and while his life was clearly cut too short, it is at least a small comfort to imagine that he was embracing every moment within it.

It is a good reminder. Seizing the day, as overplayed as that phrase may be, is far too noble an effort to ever become a cliché. People like Fowler and Boskoff have a knack for doing this seizing well. My thoughts go out to their families and friends as memorials come together for both in the coming weeks.

All images courtesy www.charliefowler.com.